“Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things.”
God shows every indication that he understands the concept of a learning curve.
I love to listen in on bus conversations. Canadian public transit is a forboding, stifling experience. People who are undaunted and speak aloud on the bus, therefore are generally frank and honest. On this ride, the ladies were discussing youth behaviour both good and shameful.
I was struck by how small in size the instances of behaviour were. They were not Stalin sized or Madoff sized. Quite the opposite: they hardly affected anyone. Just little tiny instances, with little tiny consequences, tiny feedback to shape the course of a learning life.
Tiny incidents, with massive significance. The lessons learned (Was running away the right thing to do? Was honesty rewarded?) will tip the really crucial decisions the kids will have to make later in life. That they failed in the one instance is not even so important. What is important, I think, is what happens afterwards. That lies with the parents, not the youth.
In my own life, I fail all the time. Before God. At my job. In the face of my own expectations. With my friends.
The right to fail is precious – it’s the right to bear the consequence of our actions, the right to learn. Failure is not to be embraced or glorified, but the right to fail is important. It’s part of our free will – it’s why God does not wrench decisions from our hands and blatantly override our misguided notions.
If the right to fail is precious, then so is the opportunity to approach a small thing before a big thing. Failure in the big thing can kill us.